Tea VS Coffee and a Head Crab
by komodo-Dags
Summary: After being sent to his room, Wheatley has one of the oddest dreams...only one of a moron's. One-shot! Human/Wheatley


It was a quiet morning. Chell woke up and headed downstairs, expecting all that had been usual on other occasions.

However she was met with the site of Wheatley lying limply on the floor beside the table, his hands stuck near his mouth, and his tongue flopping out of the side.

"Wheatley! Are you ok?!" She yelled as she ran over, grasped his arm, and helped him up to sit on a chair at the table.

He groaned and gagged a little. He then pointed at a cup of black coffee he had apparently poured for her. "THAT," He choked, "IS TERRIBLE, NAAAAAASTY, DIRT-COLORED..." He sputtered weakly.

Chell rolled her eyes, relaxing, "Wheatley, did you try my coffee?"

"Yes." He muttered, "You drink it every morning, so I thought it was good stuff..."

"Well, to some people it is!" She couldn't help but give a short snigger.

Wheatley glared up at her, "Dunno WHAT you're laughing about, luv. That garbage nearly KILLED me!"

She poured a new cup of coffee and put cream and sugar in it. "There, now try this!"

He looked hesitant, but he trusted her so he carefully lifted the cup to his lips, and took a sip. His face twisted in panic for only a moment before the liquid came spraying out of his mouth. She stood still all while it covered her, questioning his continued existence in the household before mentally pushing past it, retrieving a cloth from the cupboard, and beginning to wipe it up.

"Ok, never mind. You don't have to drink anything, Wheatley."

He watched sheepishly, trying to help by slowly sliding his own sleeve along the soiled area of the table.

"No!" She pushed him away, "You're making it worse!" At his miserable stare, she sighed warily, "Just go upstairs, I'll call you down when I'm finished with this. Get a new change of clothes, too."

Drearily climbing the stairs, Wheatley entered his room and curled up in his bed. He still had the awful taste of coffee in his mouth, so he wiped his tongue on the pillow a few more times before his eye-lids became heavy and he relaxed himself, forgetting about his clothes.

In an instant, he was walking in a large, fancy house. It was an old one that seemed to have jumped out of the 1800's. He wondered faintly what he was doing here. Nobody else seemed to be around…A noise suddenly came to his left and he whipped his head around to see a grand table with a metal tray on it that had a few cups, a pot of sugar, a container of cream, and a quaint little teapot. Seated at the table in a large felt red chair sat none other than Gordon Freeman's pet, the head crab. For some reason, he wasn't scared of it as he usually would be, but grabbed a chair and joined it.

It was stirring whatever was in the teapot and pouring it into cups.

"Uh, hello!" Wheatley piped up.

The head crab looked up at him and said in its most polite tone, "Oh, terribly sorry, chap. I hadn't noticed you there. Tea?"

"Um, what's tea?" Wheatley asked, leaning forward interestedly to look into the teapot.

"It's what people drink when they don't like coffee." The head crab answered, stirring some sugar into Wheatley's cup.

"Ok, uh, I guess I'll try it then! Oh and...Is this a dream?" He just wanted to make sure. You could never tell _where_ you were.

"Oh! Pardon me for being so rude, yes, yes it is!" It handed Wheatley the cup.

Wheatley snatched it and lifted it up to his mouth. It smelled great, like raspberries, so he took a swig, and it tasted just as good as it smelled. Soothing, warm, and pleasant as it slid down his throat.

"Wow! That's amazing! Hey, mate? Could you wake me up so I could taste this for real?" He asked.

"I would be delighted!" It answered, "But it might sting a bit, if you don't mind."

"Not a bit!" Wheatley said cheerfully.

So it launched itself from the chair and hooked its pointy teeth into a bare spot on his arm.

Wheatley instantly awoke," OW!BLOODY HELL THAT HURTS!" He was surprised to find that the head crab from next door was indeed latched onto his arm and he did smell tea. He sprang out of bed and hurtled downstairs.

There, Chell and Gordon Freeman were having a morning cup of tea. Wheatley instantly forgot about the head crab, grabbed Gordon's tea, and drank it down in one gulp.

"Ahhhhhh..." He moaned happily.

"Rude." Gordon muttered, then stared at the head crab, "Oh, let me get that for you."

And he grabbed the tic-like body; teeth still sunk deep into the scrawny arm, and yanked hard.


End file.
